


Hidden Longings, Brought to Light

by HSR (helena_s_renn)



Category: The Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: BDSM, Consent Issues, M/M, Whips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-11-25
Updated: 2005-11-25
Packaged: 2021-02-23 15:07:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23713408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helena_s_renn/pseuds/HSR
Summary: He dreamed of a long, long snake of a whip, cracking over his head, then upon his flesh.
Relationships: Sean Bean/Viggo Mortensen
Kudos: 2





	Hidden Longings, Brought to Light

**Author's Note:**

> Cross-posting from my old LJ. Original publication date used.

They’d been there for hours, the candles burned down low, and Sean had still not come. Viggo, implacable bastard that he was—Sean saw that now, too late, had. Three times already, either by just sitting there, staring at Sean in his mock distaste, or by rubbing himself against the other man's body, wanking with Sean’s skin.

He’d cum on Sean. The idea and the feel of it made Sean cringe. It was oh-so-dirty, searing his consciousness. Just seconds ago, he’d let it go inside Sean after pounding him relentlessly to the very edge of insanity. If the man had not been so entirely accurate in his interpretation of Sean’s mostly unformed needs, not to mention the accuracy of his long, blunt-headed cock against Sean's prostate, he’d probably have throttled him the second he’d been unchained. Sean’s back and buttocks stung from being hit with a crop; his ass burned like it had been split wide open. The man had pried info out of him he’d thought to take to the grave. And still, he was left there… unfinished.

He could scarce remember how he’d even gotten there earlier. Drinks at the pub, stumbling home, Viggo lighting a dozen candles in silence, and hugging him. At first Sean had thought it simply friendly, or sympathetic, but demanding lips followed, and as if that wasn’t bad enough, the man’s tongue snaked into his mouth…! Dammit to bloody hell, he’d responded. His heart and body quickened. Long without sex, the offer was accepted almost involuntarily. There in that candlelit room, Sean stood while Viggo kissed him endlessly and divested him of his clothes.

Willingly, he had followed the man, thinking it would be to his bathroom, maybe, but no. A few steps down the hall, behind a door was just a small area, no bigger than the walk-in closets in Sean’s bedroom at home. When questioned, Viggo had smirked and called it his ‘oubliette.’

“I can’t stand enclosed spaces for long.”

“Oh, but you will, Sean. You’ll stand for it.” The cagey answering voice’s tones were rife with meanings, double and triple. “Stand here.” Pointing, Viggo nudged the naked blond over to where a pair of large rings stuck out from a brick wall, the back wall of the house.

“You’re not serious…”

The American’s smirk deepened. “Yes, I am.”

Sean was practically stuttering. “Y-you wanna chain me up.” He made it an accusation. No verbal answer, just an amused regard of him, with eyes flicking downwards. Sean snorted in disgust of his unrepentantly interested organ. “Well, tease a man like that, why don’t you?”

Furrows appeared on Viggo’s forehead, his scarred upper lip curling. “It wasn’t a ‘tease.’ I thought you’d possibly be into this… maybe I’m wrong.” He moved his shoulders in a gesture of impatience. “You’re free to go now, if that’s what you want.” Viggo’s strong blunt fingers picked at his shirt buttons, dislodging them one by one from their holes. “But, if you don’t, then I’m gonna bind YOUR wrists to THOSE rings and I’m gonna do whatever the hell I want to you.”

Sean’s mouth was hanging open. “Why?!”

Viggo returned the gape with a hard stare and answered Sean, “Because that’s what I like. That’s how I play. Either you do too, or you don’t play with me.” He said it as if this were the most natural thing in the world, and Sean was just stupid.

Which, of course, pissed Sean off to no end. Glaring his best ‘Northern Bastard’ pig-headed, he could almost feel the fire rising in his eyes. The combination of anger with sexual heat was potent, much more than either of them alone. His cock was starting to seep from its exposed head. Viggo was bound to see it, next time he looked down. And there the fucker stood, calmly undressing, like he was getting ready to sleep or something, as if he didn’t have a thick ridge showing plainly on the front of his jeans.

It was damn difficult to control his movements, how his hand wanted to shake and hurry. Viggo made sure to take slow, even breaths as he faced his adversary, for that’s what the British stiff was right now. It was going to be a fight every step of the way. Oh yeah… no wonder his cock was trying its damnedest to get out if its tight wrappings. Smiling slightly, benignly, Viggo indulged in little imaginings of his piece detaching itself from him, running around on its own little feet, maybe with his balls bouncing along behind. It wanted to crawl up one of Sean’s shapely legs and bury itself in that legendary ass, which he was going to have free rein of this night.

Unintended though it had been, he’d been right to keep quiet. When he came back to the present, Sean had his back to him, examining how one of the rings, a large steel ring five inches in diameter, was anchored into the wall. Stealthily sliding his belt out of its loops for possible use later, he put it down, regretting having to let go of it. The smooth leather strip was raw power. Viggo watched the Sean’s fingers steal out and trace the smooth perimeter of one ring, then play across the empty center, and finally clench around its lower arc.

“Good boy!” Viggo told him.

Guiltily almost, Sean whirled to face him. Viggo took the opportunity to look him over, full frontal. It was a nice view, the wide, softly gleaming shoulders curving down into a deep chest, subtle pecs, a small, well-camouflaged golden patch between the hillocks with their pink tips, then tapering downwards…the fact that Sean stood, nude, insolent but still somehow subject to Viggo’s whim right now was thrilling, but disconcerting. There were too many variables. Another mental byplay took him for a moment, that of Sean running pell-mell down the middle of the street, hollering, “Rape! Rape!!” He wasn’t going to give him the opportunity to bolt.

Pushing a button on the wall opposite Sean-by-the-rings that made the cover of a hidden built-in cabinet slide back, Viggo stood still and watched Sean’s reactions dance across his features. Curiosity, fear, something like good old-fashioned ‘shocked and appalled.’ Still Viggo let the tension build. When he could stand it no longer, he hurriedly picked up two pairs of thin chain link wrist cuffs and moved to the stunned blond man who was still staring at the obviously displayed specialty items that looked damn impressive, but hadn’t had much practical use yet. He grabbed Sean by the wrist, slipped the chain around it, and fastened the opposite loop in a hitch like he used to tie up his horse.

The green eyes with raised, arched eyebrows above now looked, really looked, at how he’d been tied and started to panic. “Jesus fucking Christ, Vig, you one of those ‘whip me beat me’ freaks?” The electro-verte turned on the darker man, who felt that hold in flashes of new sweat in his armpits and groin, a skittish jump in his heart-rate. While Sean was still studying the way he was now chained, pulling at the thin links, Viggo caught his other wrist. Immediately Sean pulled out of his grasp. “Waddayah think you're doing?”

“This is getting to be a bit of a repetitious question for you, Sean.” He lunged for the arm again, successfully. He stepped forward to within an inch of Sean who was glowering like some large carnivore with its paw caught in a trap. Sean’s eyes went to the side, beyond him. Besides the expected sweat and musky rut scent he expected, something else was seeping from the pores of the pale skin. Fear.

Careful not to loosen his grip, Viggo turned and followed the other man’s line of sight. In the midst of some crops, cock rings, and various other restraints, rested the coiled latent threat of his prized toy, artfully displayed. Sixteen feet of finest Argentine leather, nine strips braided into the black bullwhip he’d always wanted as a child but hadn’t been allowed. Buying it had been like claiming a lost piece of his soul and it was hideously kinky. Appropriately so. He looked back at Sean, who started to struggle again, a small iniquitous leer on his lips. “I’m gonna find out about your deal with that, you know. But first…” He wrestled with the other man, their bodies bumping together. Finally he managed to loop the other silver chain around Sean’s wrist. “Now,” he panted, having resorted to pushing Sean back against the wall and holding him there with one shoulder, “before we go any further, pick a word, one word. If you say it, it will stop whatever I’m doing to you; it ends there.”

“Fuck you,” Sean spat.

“I’ve found that one never works,” Viggo told him. “Pick something else.” Sean swallowed audibly. Viggo’s cock hadn’t gone down. Not hardly. Watching Sean's Adam’s apple moving up and down made it worse. “Now!” he added sternly.

“Fine!” Sean was still arrogant in his answer, though he’d jerked his chin down momentarily while he considered. In the interim, Viggo pulled his arm across to the second ring, four feet from the first. Sean made him work for it, muscles straining and teeth bared like he just might bite. Chest heaving, Viggo stepped back across the small space and admired his handiwork. The green eyes were darting around the perimeters of the area… ceiling, floor, left wall, right wall; the man’s claustrophobia started to get the better of him. Viggo was just going to have to make him narrow his focus. “Your word,” he barked.

“Poontang,” drawled Sean, looking up, though he quivered slightly.

Viggo raised one eyebrow. “You will find that I’m not anything resembling a pussy.” He lifted the bullwhip down from its hooks and shook out the stiff leather. Fear reared up in Sean. Viggo fondled the handle, seeing green eyes fade to a pale grey. There wasn’t really anywhere much he could go, but still, Sean pressed himself to the wall. His erection wilted; that was the thing that told Viggo he was right on the edge of pushing too far. Best to show the other man he had limits, too. “Don’t worry, Sean,” he adopted a reassuring tone. “I can’t use this on you in here—it’s too long. See?” Turning to the side, Viggo cracked the whip out the door. It was very loud. Sean flinched and jerked. “Don’t pull too hard,” Viggo advised, “Those chains are stronger than they look. They’d cut you before they’d break.”

“So you’d cut me…?” Deliberately misunderstanding, Sean's query was cut off.

“No, I would not. You’d be the one doing the damage.”

Sean snorted rudely; his cock started to perk up a little again. “Ain’t that what you're after? You're gonna beat me bloody one way or another…?”

“First, we’d work up to any beating, Sean, or at least any involving a belt or whip. Second, shut up! Just stand there and look pretty for a little…” Sean turned his head and actually spat on Viggo’s carpet. The defiance made Viggo’s leaden erection jerk in his pants and release a profuse trickle of pre-cum. But he had to stop this before it was out of control.

He dropped the butt end of the whip, grabbed the cruelest cock ring he had, and got into Sean’s space again. Perfunctionally, as if it bored him, he slipped the five metal rings joined by a thin knotted leather thread over the uncut, hardening organ. The diameter was not particularly wide. Sean was going to squirm very soon. Spitting into his hand, Viggo stroked the accessible part of his captive cock till it filled the rings. There was no hope of the blood escaping nor of Sean orgasming till Viggo let him. Sean was apparently experienced or smart enough to figure it out and thrashed as much as he could within his confines. That ended when one of the chains broke the skin of his wrist. Viggo played with the silky head of Sean’s cock, running a finger in circles.

Sean closed his eyes and moaned. “Damn you! Would you…would you push the ‘skin back?” he asked in a low, choked voice.

“Would you suck my cock?” Sean glared balefully back. “No?” With that, he let go of Sean entirely. His poor penis was purple, swollen, bulging out between the rings. The tiny slit opening yawned at him once as Sean flexed. There were things he’d like to put in that, but not now. Viggo couldn’t take it the relative inactivity anymore. Oh, he COULD, he just chose not to.

The downward zip of his fly was an intense relief. Dropping the jeans and kicking them aside, the head of his cock sprang forth, covered in shiny pre-cum. He slicked it up the shaft and began to caress himself slowly. Overly aware of Sean watching him, sneering at him, Viggo let it show on his face that he was masturbating to Sean, and to Sean watching him do it. He cast his feet wide apart, threw his control of himself to the wind and wanked like a wild man. There were a few packets of lube in the cabinet, and he spared one for this. The cool-slick fluid allowed him to stroke his fist furiously over the impossibly tight skin that was his end-road to release. He did as he’d said and let his light eyes slide over the loosely restrained body. Sean was fucking gorgeous and he knew it, made more so now with his normal cockiness taken away momentarily. As his orgasm began deep in his balls, Viggo staggered over to Sean. He put one hand on the blond’s slightly lower right shoulder; white seed shot in ropy strands all over Sean’s front.

Starting with the first hot spurt of it, Sean began to yell obscenities. As if it would help, he sucked his belly in under his ribs and tucked his pelvis under. All that did was make his ring-weighted cock bounce. Viggo had to chuckle both at the sight of it, and at the utter relief from coming that forcefully. He must’ve shot a dozen times; it had splattered everywhere.

Cum still oozing between the fingers of his right hand, Viggo grabbed Sean’s face between his palms and kissed him hard. Surprisingly, the other man did not fight this, and kissed him back, even trying to push his attention-seeking little tongue between Viggo’s teeth.

“Oh, you want kisses, do you?”

Sean did not deny it. “Well, excuse me,” he said.

Viggo whuffed. Shakily, he turned and bent down to retrieve his long whip. Just for fun, he cracked it again. Once again, Sean flinched. “Kneel down,” Viggo commanded immediately, pressing his advantage. A brief hesitation, a furrowing of brows, a half-opened then closed mouth, but Sean did it. “This lovely, hand-made, and might I add, very expensive toy of mine is going to need a lot of detailed cleaning later, and re-treating, but that’s a good job for you, Seanie.” He winked.

“Bite me,” Sean retorted, his more normal demeanor making a reappearance.

“Maybe later,” was the terse answer.

Standing over him with the braided black whip coiled in his hands, Viggo reminded Sean of Lucifer. Viggo had grown his hair out again; longer than Sean’s and dyed dark, and while he wasn’t wearing a beard, three days’ stubble suggested one. Sean was still pissed off at being in this situation, after giving been blindsided like that by the play-acting prick. He couldn’t deny the off-kilter attractiveness of the man, with his long, lean legs, his whole slender body both slighter than he seemed on screen, and yet larger than life at the same time.

And yes, Viggo had a very nice cock. Sean was simply used to the fact that his wasn’t big, but as all his wives had said, his ego more than made up for it. Those rings were really starting to bite into him, though, making it difficult to pay attention to anything else for very long. Therefore he missed Viggo’s question, and found himself slapped so hard across the face that his level of rage reached a towering height. He snarled up at the other man.

“Sean!” Viggo snapped. “Pay attention if you want out of that sometime this week!”

Sean growled ferally, emerald glints flashing. From low in his chest, Viggo growled more menacingly still. For moments, they faced each other like that. Viggo came forward with the whip, letting its tasseled end drag on the rug.

‘What was the bugger planning now?’ Sean wondered. He already proved it couldn’t be used effectively in its primary function. His answer was provided when Viggo draped the handle along his left breast, brought the snaking tail of it over his shoulder, diagonally down across his back and around his waist, and around and across his torso ever upward in a spiral. He made it snug but not too tight, looking meaningfully several times into Sean’s eyes when the braided plait laid in drying lines of cum on his skin.

Just having it—the whip--touching him made Sean very jumpy. He wasn’t sure if he was excited by it or if he hated it.

Finished, Viggo retreated to a corner and sat. After coolly watching Sean for a while, he asked, “So, Sean… tell me about whips.”

“They’re long and thin and make a lot of noise?”

“Very funny. You know exactly what I mean. Now talk.”

Sean clamped his teeth together. He’d never told anyone… not even… that fucker was going to pry it from him, wasn’t he? Goddamnit! He shook his head and looked down. A few more moments of silence passed. Then, in a surprisingly gentle voice, Viggo asked, “What, Seanie? Was it that someone got carried away? Was it painful? Humiliating? Were you innocent?”

It took too much effort to try to interpret all the nuances of that, especially with his member in such a state. Each of Viggo’s suggestions was partially right, and so very uncomfortable. With a slight and a shift of his shoulders, Sean regripped the body-heat-warmed steel rings he was chained to and began to speak in stream of consciousness. “Well, we were drunk… ‘course we were, though by the end, I wasn’t. Anyway, it was Daragh and me. Filming ‘Mission’ at the time. You knew back in those days, they’d whip the soldiers to keep ‘em in line. I don’t mean in the days of 1995… back in the wars… Napoleonic wars. Sharpe’d been whipped, you know.”

Viggo nodded that he did.

“So, we were royally pissed… and Daragh gets this idea we should see what it was like. ‘Not for real.’ He was laughing. I can still hear it, plain as day. So we sneak into the set, find a stable with the usual props, and he wants me to… to do him first. He took off his shirt and I smacked him across the back a couple times with a riding crop, but we were drunk enough that either I couldn’t hit very hard, or he couldn’t feel it. We were giggling like a couple of little girls, trying to be quiet an’ all. So I take me shirt off and lean over this stack of hay bales and nod back that I’m ready. And I realize he’s not laughing any more. Then it came, the lash; it were one of those real long ones like you got there… again and again. He wasn't doing it hard ‘nough to break the skin… but hard enough I had welts on me back for a couple of days. Try ‘n hide that from the wife and the mistress. Well…” his cheeks few very pink, “I got a hard-on, right? I fucking liked it because… because it were him, mostly, I think. Alright? I was ashamed of myself, and that only made it worse. I just shut up and let him keep going, and … I came in my pants,” he whispered. “Thank god it was dark. I must’ve made some sound because I stopped then, and he stumbled over and starts touching me back while I’m still dripping spunk and all. I coulda died, but he probably took the whimpering for pain.”

Sean let out a short, humorless laugh and shook his head. “You know what, Viggo? I spend almost four years wanting… well you know. He were always right there, getting my back, backing me up. My sergeant… chosen man. Fuck. One of life’s little ironies.” Once again, he laughed in the form of a quickly released puff of air through his nose. “Ah well. I had no idea what to do with it back then anyway, and he’s straight.”

“Not that straight that he couldn’t be bent a little,” Viggo told Sean. “I’ve seen it too, Sharpe.”

“Liked what you saw, did yeh?” Sean tried to turn the tables on him.

“Of course. Including the subject of the most recent monologue.” Sean didn’t comment on that; his eyes were misty and far away. Viggo gave him a minute to his memories. Then he said, “You can’t really count that. As you pointed out, you were drunker than two skunks.”

The green eyes glared daggers. “It fucking counts. It’s the only thing that counts, since you had to know why your ‘toy’ made me jump.”

“Yeah, you’re right, bad wording on my part,” Viggo conceded. “I meant, it didn’t begin with the intent of anything sexual. Right? Or no?”

“Right…”

“What freaked you out more—being hit, whipped, you know, physically… or the fact that you liked it?”

The chains jingled shrilly, a sharp musical sound. Viggo could almost see Sean’s brain attempting to turn the fact of that into anything but what it was.

“I started out as pretty drunk tonight. What’s the difference?” Sean’s focused on Viggo now, eyes narrowed suspiciously. His body tensed, making the muscles in his arms bulge and his pale stomach quiver between the rungs of the whip-ladder wrapped around his torso.

Viggo’s cock twitched back to life. “When I take a whip to someone, it’s because we both want it… or somebody needs it… for lack of a better phrasing. What you experienced might have awoken something in you, or created it. You should think about that.”

“But I’m not kinky that way!” Viggo leveled a look at him. Those blue eyes speared him, there where he was on his knees with his cock bound six ways to Sunday and wrapped up like some fetishist wet dream.

He didn’t like it, being held under someone’s power like this. He’d always had the upper hand in his sex life, if you could even call this sex…? That’s why he’d come home with the other man, right? Because he was reasonably attractive; of the right persuasion; could, Sean was sure, be trusted to keep his mouth shut; and was certain to make things interesting. A self-assured, similarly-aged man like that would not just roll over and allow Sean to use him without challenge. Instead, he was so out of his depth… he HAD to trust Viggo to get him through this and get him off, let him go, and do it right. Some or all of it must’ve shown on his face. When he next looked at the dark-haired man, he noted that the other’s member was fully erect and wrapped with thick, blunt fingers again. Sean rolled his eyes. “Here we go again.”

“Just for that, smart-mouth, that’s exactly what it’ll be.”

‘Surely,’ thought Sean, 'his cock would fall off before long.' It had hurt before, worse now with new blood surging in at this sight before him. In total opposition to his commanding demeanor and the scenario itself, Viggo touched himself with such exquisite care, it practically made Sean’s eyes water. He pulled with a certain twist to his wrist, lingered over the play of foreskin, fondled and rolled his large, hairy balls. And he looked like he enjoyed it so very much. To Sean, since he was old enough to do so, wanking was something done furtively, shamefully, and because there was no other option.

This fueled his anger, too. Had not Viggo ever been properly taught that pleasure was a sin? He was fucking jealous, that’s what he was. He’d royally fucked up every relationship he’d ever been in, trying to get it right. First he’d saved himself, not knowing he’d want to try it out with anything on two legs once he’d tried it out at all. Then next time, he’d fathered two kids before he’d agreed to marriage, only to fall again for the ego trip of being wanted THAT BADLY, and that wore off too, didn’t it? And all the myriad faces and holes in between? Nothing but shame, every single one of them.

He found he was pulling at the chains on his wrists so hard that trickles of blood had started. Viggo noticed too, despite that he didn’t stop what he was doing. “Sean,” he groaned, “don’t.”

Sean yanked harder on the chains. They cut through the tender flesh on the insides of his wrists. Hot, thick liquid followed the contours of his arms. On his knees, Viggo scuttled across the floor till he was right there. He wrapped his arms around the other man, shoving his erection against Sean’s hip. Strong and slightly sticky hands snaked around to grip Sean’s ass.

Viggo nuzzled the side of Sean’s neck like a kitten. Quick flicks of his tongue tickled the side of his neck, aiming for his ear. Viggo’s warm breaths puffed into his ear canal, then a little slick slip of tongue. If not for the rings holding it back, Sean was sure, this might have made him spill. But he couldn’t. His entire body broke out in goosebumps, like his whole skin was erect, his nipples the stinging cherries on top. “Fuuuuuck,” he groaned.

“You’re a man of complicated requirements, aren’t you, Seanie?” came a whisper into his ear.

“I think you’re the one who complicates things,” Sean disagreed, panting as the squirming tongue probed his ear canal and then outer whorls. His cock hurt so badly now. He itched from the dried cum sticking to him. Sweat running down his back and blood running slowly toward his armpits added to the discomfort. He was no longer scared of whatever unknown thing Viggo would do to him. He just needed out.

Sean’s head fell back as the other man moved around front of him to cover his throat with kisses, working his way to the other ear. Just past halfway, his teeth sunk into the thin flesh above his collarbone. Viggo clamped down till there was an angry red mark that would turn black later. Sean hissed and then yelled. He became aware of how Viggo’s groin was rubbing on his, leaking on him, the rigid shaft tunneling in his entrapment between them. His arse was gong to have bruises, too, as convulsively as the strong fingers were grabbing at it. That was not all. One finger snuck into his crease to tap his hole. Sean gasped. The finger left, but returned a moment later wet from Viggo’s own offering.

Viggo methodically worked himself into another orgasm. Using his steady rocking against Sean’s body and a bit of his hand for friction, he kept his mouth busily divided between the his ears and neck and at the end, when his cream shot up between them again, finally his mouth. Their tongues met and twined. Breath mingled in Viggo’s shuddering completion and Sean’s needy little sounds of frustration. In much the same way as he unconsciously licked his lips, the playful little incubus inhabiting Sean’s mouth drew the other man’s lust-swollen lips into his sphere. There was so much more Viggo could give him, by pushing him to do things he thought against his very nature but halfways confessed to when pressed. Starting now.

Reluctant to break off Sean’s warmly consuming kisses, Viggo forced himself to and immediately had attention by way of his refusal. “Sean… As nice as that was…”

“For you, maybe…” Green cat-eyes flicked down once, not lingering on his painful-looking male anatomy.

Ignoring that, Viggo rambled on, hoping he could say it right. He was more accustomed to people who had done this before, who knew for themselves how the power-struggle intensified the experience and came looking for new thrills. “Holy fuck, man. I shouldn’t tell you this, but… I don’t know when I’ve ever been that satisfied from just… Satisfied, but wanting it again right away.” This one would not admit anything more still Viggo had proved himself. Only then could they set more boundaries, always made to be broken. It was time to begin in earnest. “There’s so much more, if you’d let me show you. It’s been ten years since this was awakened in you… Don’t you think it's time you explore it?”

“I could argue for forgetting we ever had this conversation and never speaking of it again,” Sean retorted irritably, and laughed, an uncomfortable contradiction. The chains had been pulled into a bent metallic jigsaw from his insubordinate escape attempts. Standing shakily, Viggo sidestepped to the one to his left and worked it loose. It took some doing. Sean watched anxiously. His spread arms twitched a few times. Instead of releasing his hand, though, Viggo looped the chain around his fist. Walking in a half-circle, he pulled Sean to face the wall, and looped this silver chain next to the other. Sean started to sputter again.

“Just be quiet,” Viggo ordered. “I need… and you do, too…” He retreated. Taking a riding crop down from its place, he swung it through the air. Stiffening like a plank had been implanted in his spine, Sean held himself unyielding when the end of it touched him and caressed him. There was a faint white line over his shoulder blade, ending a few centimeters from the back of the arm joint. “Is this where…?”

“Yessssssss,” hissed Sean. “Oh, fuck, Viggo, I don’t think I can…”

“Shhhhhhh,” the exhaled susurration hushed and soothed him. “You can. I know you can. It’s gonna be so good, Seanie…” Not too hard, he smacked against the faded, aged mark…

It took him back to that night, all the feelings of drunken befuddlement and unwelcome uncontrollable heat. But that was then, and it was a long time past. Blows from the riding whip fell harder and faster on his back, from shoulders down to his arse. Each brought forth a hiss, a curse, a flinch or jump. Fiery white-hot lines told him where each strike landed. Viggo pushed him to the point of pain, and past it, to where he was becoming irate again from both the treatment and the sensation for all that it was all going straight to his restrained bits. Each slash of the whip saw his balls crawl up farther and farther, till they retracted into his body. If Viggo ever let him cum, he thought wrathfully, he would need some time just to pry them down again.

From his standpoint, Viggo could see ever instant whitening of Sean’s smooth flesh, followed by lasting, glowing red lines. This is what he loved, what he craved: the row of stripes up his lover’s incredible back and shoulders, criss-crossing with the black snake of the bullwhip still wrapped around him. The hiss and whistle of his hand’s extension curled in his gut. He had to put lines down on Sean’s arse, a good ten of them. It was love, his form of love, what he did. His arm rose and fell, and the flesh marked up well. Sean’s knuckles and fingers were white from holding on to his ring, his lips bloodless from pressing them together so tightly.

“Sean, it’s time to go to the bedroom.”

“Y’mean, you don’t just do sex in here?”

“Do sex??”

“This isn’t exclusively your sex room?”

“Sean, you twat! For one thing, it would be ‘playroom’ in the popular vernacular, but I choose to call it, ‘the little place of forgetting.’” Then he shook his head, mirthfully saying, “’Sex room,’ Sean? That’s rich. I might even have to start calling it that.”

“I don’t care wha’ you call it! Just fucking let me go!”

“Oh, Sean… and you were doing so well. That mouth of yours…” he made a _tsk tsk_ noise. “We’re going to have to work out a system so that you’re not always and forever spouting off insolent comments at inopportune moments.”

“Oh, listen to you! ‘Insolent!’ what’ll it be next? ‘Permission to speak freely, Sir!?’”

Sean didn’t mean it that way, he was sure, hadn’t done it intentionally, but ‘Sir’ did unspeakably filthy things to Viggo’s sex drive. His groin tingled and warmed as blood rushed in again. “That would do just fine,” he responded absentmindedly to Sean’s sarcastically-asked question. “I might forego the belt in favor of fucking you… I’ll save that little delight for another day.”

“Oh thank god… er… Wait a bloody minute! Nobody said anything about that thing going in my arse.”

“I believe I just did.”

As if someone had just slapped him, the side of Sean’s face that Viggo could see turned white, then red. The idea of himself being penetrated must have scared Sean even worse than just of being whipped. Visibly shaking now, the fear-scent rolled off his sweating body. The tang went up Viggo’s nostrils, zinging all the way down his spine, and exploded mutely in his lower belly before continuing through his limbs and extremities. This would be a rare treat indeed to convince Sean to let himself to be taken, and make it so good for him that he’d be Viggo’s… anytime… anywhere… but first things first.

Viggo knelt directly behind the shivering blond. Even though Sean saw him coming, saw his hands reach out, he still flinched when his body was touched. The marks on his backside had faded somewhat, but Viggo knew from experience that didn’t mean the other man wasn’t still feeling them, so he went to work on Sean’s front instead; the Brit’s skin was quite smooth on his torso, warm and damp. At first he held himself separate from the other man while he rested the insides of his forearms on his sides. Reaching around, he traced the soft outlines of his abs till he located the tiny indent of his navel. The tip of him brushed against a tense buttock and left a small smear, silvery against the candy-cane pink-and-white stripes. Sean began to whimper and curse under his breath.

Taking this cue, Viggo tucked his hardened organ between Sean’s cheeks and pressed up against him. Their mingled sweat stung where the whip had licked Sean. With one finger, he explored the shallow little hole. His other forefinger flicked an erect, pink nipple; then he pinched. Sean’s breath hitched. He bowed his head, his forehead to the wall above his bound hands. Viggo continued to pet the slightly napped flesh with his fingertips till Sean was undulating and pushing back against him.

Never before had Viggo had an occasion to be this delicate with a male lover. His eyes prickled with the intensity of it. Sean’s reluctance became his impetus. He found, to his surprise, that he was kissing the back of Sean’s neck and his broad shoulders, and that man was accepting it just as he’d accepted Viggo’s chains and his whip—with a fair amount of fuss, but willingly enough for one ‘forced.’

Still, when Sean opened his eyes again he glared murderously, even while he begged: “Please, mate, just let me go. Do what you have to, but… please… let me go free. I’ll never bother you again… fuck… it hurts…”

“Come to my bedroom, then,” Viggo said immediately.

“Fine,” Sean spat. “As long as it gets me out of this.” He dropped his eyelids while Viggo released his chains from the ring. But instead of taking them off his wrists, Viggo left them on and hooked the short chains together. He assisted Sean in standing, and held him steady when he weaved dangerously for a moment.

Sean felt like he’d been on his knees for a hundred years and that his cock had been held captive for twice that long. Why he was still here, participating with this, he wasn’t sure. In fact, confusion boiled in his brain. The only clarity was that he could say his safeword anytime and go, and to that he resolutely clung. He was living for those times when Viggo was making him feel pain. Or hell, feel anything. It wasn’t so simple as that but rather, the kind of mental one-up-man-ship combined with a blinding physical adrenaline rush he didn’t know but for his imagination existed. If he didn’t die of a heart attack or from having the circulation in his prick permanently cut off first, he was in truth quite eager to see what new responses Viggo could force from his body. But he couldn’t admit that, not aloud.

He let himself be led into Viggo’s bedroom. Throwing Viggo his best arrogant smart-ass sneer, he stood by the bed, stopped short of getting onto it. Viggo took care of that. He half-lifted, half pushed the Sean up onto the down comforter covering the king-sized bed. They lay together, facing, Viggo cupping Sean’s face in his hand and then forcing him into a hard kiss. For a few seconds, Sean tried to turn his head away, but then he thought better of it. He grabbed onto Viggo with both hands, throwing a leg over the other man’s, and he brought his dark-purple, ring-encircled phallus against Viggo’s hip. “How the bloody hell will this ever come off?” he demanded between tracing the scarred upper lip of his lover in one instant and thrusting his tongue back into the wicked mouth in the next.

When Viggo came up for air, he said only, “It will. Trust me.” Sean made a noise that clearly stated his opinion on the subject, or what he was willing to ‘say’ about it. No matter that his real thoughts were kept to himself. Viggo reached down between them and thumbed a barely noticeable button on the side of the metal ring closest to the head of Sean’s cock. The surge of returning blood made him gasp, and then writhe upon the bed in sensory overload. He realized he still had that infernal bullwhip wrapped around him when the leather chafed the skin where it crossed his ribs. His brow furrowed in annoyance. He really did want to feel the other man’s body with his own active participation, but all these hindrances, goddamnit!

“Before this is over, you’re gonna make a mess all over this blanket,” Viggo announced. “I’m gonna make you come so hard, you’ll lose your mind; you might even pass out…”

“Pretty damn sure of yourself, aren’t yeh?” Sean gritted. Everything between his legs was congested, over-filled, the sweet ache of it like nothing he’d ever experienced. Viggo had shifted and was prompting him to get on hands and knees. It filled Sean with dread. He refused to be moved, till Viggo finally quit arguing with him and lifted him bodily into position. Sean went slack. No way was he going to allow this to happen so easily.

In response to that, Viggo raised the Sean’s hips enough to get his legs folded under him, and left one arm over his back. A cool stream of something hit Sean between the cheeks of his arse and he bucked so hard Viggo dropped the bottle of lube to hold him in place. “Be still!” Viggo hissed. A slippery finger traced down from the top of Sean’s crease till it found his tightly closed hole. He ran the pad of his finger across the puckers several times. Sean was so tense, like a bunny just waiting to spring and bolt. He changed direction to circle the contour of the ring muscle.

“No one ever touched me there but me doctor,” Sean choked out in a low voice. The idea of Sean getting his physical made Viggo’s own cock swell further and ache. He let the very tip of his finger push into that tightness. Sean held remarkably still except for the shallow breathing while he slid in his finger to the first, second, third knuckle. “Odd,” was all Sean said.

Sean could feel everything acutely. The throbbing in his groin and lower belly extended back to his taint and asshole as well. The whole works needed to come now, not just his poor retracted bollocks. He felt the calloused tip of Viggo's finger, and as it went into his body, the smooth, hard fingernail on the opposite side. It was a weird feeling; though he’d endured it before it had never been for sex. The petting and fiddling with his hole made him want to open up… he just didn’t know how. It was too much losing control, too much like he was going to take a shit...!

All the cruel names that he and his mates had used to refer to gay men in their youth came to mind… “Pouf, faggot… fudge-packer!” Yes, Viggo was going to pack him good, wasn’t he? He couldn’t believe himself; suddenly he hated what was happening to him more than he’d ever hated anything. When a second finger joined the first, he reared up. “No! No! Stop it, Viggo!” but his outburst was ignored.

Using all his strength, Viggo slammed Sean head first into the mattress and twisted his two fingers around till they found something inside that made white fire blind San momentarily. Once he found the spot, he kept at it relentlessly. Sean continued to whisper his, ‘No,' while his body betrayed him. His knees came apart and his back arched, and damn his bloody eyes, his arse was waving in the air, counter-thrusting to Viggo’s hand. A third finger was inserted with the others, making Sean’s hole burn and match the other stinging and burning parts of his body.

Things were happening too fast now. More slick fluid was applied around Viggo’s fingers and worked into him. Then the man’s body came into closer contact with his, right behind him, as he’d been before. Those times now struck Sean as a foreshadowing. The tip of Viggo’s incredibly hard erection took the place of the just-withdrawn digits. “You want it, Sean? You want my cock?” Viggo tormented him. He wasn’t really looking for confirmation, though.

The flared head pushed its way in, and it fucking hurt. Sean yelled and struggled, but he was slammed down again with a forearm across the back of his neck. Viggo growled at him. “Relax Sean, or it's going to hurt worse. If you want your sweet spot touched again, I’m going to have to move.” Two or three coils of the whiptail adorning Sean were gathered in his fist; the other strong hand grasped his hip for leverage. Inexorably the shaft went in, in, making him take it, making him submit.

Hot breath fanned in quick bursts over his back. Sean got a momentary rush that this was making Viggo that frantic, that close to losing control of himself. The deeply buried shaft changed the angle of its penetration and in an instant, that white light took over again when his prostate was touched; he was reduced to begging, hopeless that it was that he’d be able to cum yet. “Oh, god... right there… Please… please move… please do that again…”

The other man grunted in acknowledgement and dragged his phallus over the screaming, sensitized nerve endings of Sean’s gland. He was sure that he was having an orgasm, that he was coming. The sensations of gathering and exploding were all there, only he couldn’t shoot and he hated to think of what it was going to do to his plumbing. Biting his hand and tasting his own blood, he let the slow in-and-out slide of Viggo’s organ through the tight ring of his hole and across this inner gland bring him as far as he could go. Maybe he’d go soft now and the rings would drop off.

But no. Right after that, Viggo speeded up his thrusts and Sean began to understand that the rings were too tight to allow any tumescence to escape. Worse, between the sensation of what little fluid did escape his slit and what Viggo was doing, which was taking him forcefully, more heat flooded his groin. Sean literally screamed in both frustration and pleasure. Viggo laughed, and tugged on the coils in his fist. Sean saw flashes of the other man’s face between bursts of brightness. His lips were thinned and face tightly drawn, but his eyes were open and fixed on Sean.

It seemed to go on forever. How he’d ever walk away from this in a literal sense, Sean didn’t know, never mind every other connotation. With a final thrust so deep Sean felt it behind his navel, Viggo yelled and filled him up with hot essence. This deeply intimate thing was another sensation that would have made Sean cum, too, if he could have. But he couldn’t, oh no, that fucking bastard had his dick for a prisoner.

Disbelief that Viggo had just shot his load a third time but still made him delay made Sean react in the only way he knew how… rage. He screamed every profanity he knew, struggling against the other man’s weight and his holds on him. He was so out of there. If he had to hack the rings off himself with a bolt cutter, he was not going to endure another second of this shit.

Viggo gave up trying to keep him kneeling and finally just collapsed on top of him, hand sliding underneath him. It flicked the little secret buttons on three more rings. Sean groaned loudly at the pain of the natural shape of his cavernosa filling out again. “Sean,” the other man whispered urgently. “Lift up and for god’s sake, don’t try to leave. I’m taking this last ring off, and you’re going to cum, Sean; you won’t be able to help it.”

The flaxen-haired man snorted skeptically. “As if I even want you to see that of me anymore… but I can’t care…” he moaned. “Just take it off me…”

Viggo hadn’t gone soft quite yet. He sawed slightly over Sean’s prostate a few times, and pulled him into kneeling, ass up high one more time. Almost gently, he took the painful erection hanging under Sean’s belly in his fist in just a few light strokes.

The last button…he flicked it with the side of his thumb.

There was a second of delay.

Sean was blindsided… he was screaming and coming, his swollen bollocks releasing gout after gout of pent-up seed. His cock vibrated and jerked hard as it pumped his cream all over Viggo’s bed. Involuntarily, his whole backside, arse and hole and the inside of him too, clenched so hard around the organ within. Fluid produced by his prostate was juiced from him. He was wanked firmly by that slippery hand that knew just how to move his foreskin for maximum pleasure, and the perfect amount of pressure to use. Little compliments and endearments reached his ears. His completion so sated him, he felt drugged and replete.

The hand covered with his semen continued to stroke him till he couldn’t stand it anymore and flinched upwards. It moved on to his bollocks that were drained dry and had finally lowered from his body cavity into his sac. Carefully Viggo rolled the jewels till Sean pulled away again. Finally, softened cock slipped from well-used hole. Cum ran down the insides of his pale thighs, something he’d had been the cause of many times but had never experienced for himself. He couldn’t have done anything about it if he’d tried.

Where he was, there he stayed in a slumped pile. Panting heavily, he was vaguely aware of Viggo unwinding the whip from around him, but he couldn’t move. He didn’t even care that he was lying in a puddle of his own spooge. After cleaning his limbs and belly and lastly his arse, then unlocking the wrist chains at last and removing them, Viggo rolled Sean to his side and curled up behind him. “You did so well, baby… so good.” And he held onto his lover, who shook uncontrollably.

“Jesus…Jesus, Viggo… it was. Th-thank you.”

“Thank you, Sean. You were incredible… that you trusted me… with what you told me.”

Sean had to think about it, and then he remembered. He must have killed a few thousand brain cells yet again. “Can’t believe I told you that…”

“You needed to… yeah?”

“Yeah. It still surprises me… um… that you knew what to do, but mostly that I wanted that, liked it.” Suddenly, Sean felt shy and young, and he was glad his back was to the other man.

“There’s a lot more to this than what we covered today, but we’ve made good inroads.”

“Yeah, inroads into me arse, you mean.”

Viggo snickered at him. “Sean, I would like to find out much more about what you can handle. And what you need. And then give it to you.”

“But why?” Sean took this for a one-time thing. They’d really gotten too personal too fast, and it made him uncomfortable; beyond the afterglow, he’d usually never return to such a thing as that… and with a bloke yet? How the hell…?

“That’s what I do. It’s what I like, and what gets me off.”

“What if I’d decide I’ve had enough?”

“Then… you’ll have to tell me what you need.” It seemed to Sean that Viggo had deliberately misunderstood him, but he let him speak. “…Because… what I want more than anything is you, just you, in whatever form. I did do more than beat the hell out of you. You know it. We could be good together. And once I train you up right… who knows.”

“’Train me up?’ Were you… trained… Viggo?” He was suddenly extremely curious. What did one do to train a person to be a master, or whatever they called it? Sean knew he hadn’t been treated as a slave or a servant. He’d only said ‘sir’ once, and sarcastically at that. Did Viggo normally play that way? Or had he developed his own thing and used that on him? Whatever the case, it was… good. Annoying as hell, but worth it. Sean lay still and reflected while he waited for an answer. Viggo had carefully studied every facial expression; words, said and unsaid; had listened to Sean’s story and made use of his long-hidden fantasies; and he’d more or less forced Sean when necessary, to incredible results. The thought of a younger Viggo being trained… of him being tied or whipped… this, Sean had to hear.

“Yes, I was trained… it’s kind of a long story, maybe another time. Let me just say… you have to learn to receive before you can even think about dealing it out.” Viggo's nasally voice had lowered as his tiredness caught up with him. Sean didn’t blame him. It was late, and he’d spent himself three times to Sean’s one.

But apparently he’d been right. If nothing else, he should be able to hear more about the man’s intriguing past, which he never had mentioned before. Sean let himself relax again, and sank against Viggo’s front as they hurled toward sleep.

He dreamed of a long, long snake of a whip, cracking over his head, then upon his flesh. This time he was more than willing, but, he understood in his dreams, something else was the key. Fight it. Don’t back down. And it would be twice as good.

Fin.


End file.
